Take my scarf?
by lemonkeygirl
Summary: It started with Russia wrapping his scarf "affectionately" around England's neck when America was watching. The outcome? Chaos, excitable nations, and lots of confusion on England's behalf. Oh dear.
1. Chapter 1

America hated last minute world meetings. There was nothing good about them. You came, screamed at a few nations, got screamed at, maybe you'd exchange a few punches, and leave. He wasn't as stupid as everyone assumed! But they didn't need to know that. England didn't need to know that. Speaking of England, at least there was something good about them. It had been to long since he'd seen Arthur. One might think he was getting upset about it. Him? Want to see England? AS IF! He just needed someone to pick on was all.  
God, who was he kidding? Well, the whole world for one. The nations mingled as they filled out of the building. A chilling wind blew through the alleyway (Nations NEVER left secret meetings through the front door. It just wasn't done!). The Bad Touch Trio huddled together in the corner. That was never good. Greece and Turkey appeared to be arguing over poor Kiku again, and Russia was no where to be seen.  
"America." He turned to find Germany addressing him. "Yo! Germany! What can I do ya' for?" he smiled his trademark smile (And yes it was as a matter-of-fact!). Germany strolled up to him and jabbed him in the chest. "I want you to put some thought into this issue America. Not another Hero speech. Got it?"  
Alfred gulped and smiled nervously. "Yeah! Okay! Can do Germany!" Germany merely scowled and stalked of in the opposite direction to stand with Italy.  
America sighed in relief and looked around again. What had he been thinking about? Oh, of course, England. Thinking of England, where was he? He had barely gotten the thought out when England came out of the door followed by and angry Switzerland and a composed Austria. America strained to make out the conversation.  
"-know your upset! And no! I'm not hearing this right now! Whatever it is! It can wait until morning! Can you manage to not kill each other until then?" England turned his back on the two nations glaring at each other and leaned against a deserted patch of wall a little away from America. Alfred swore he heard him mutter under his breath, "and get a goddamn marriage counselor already! Gits."  
England stuck his hands in his pockets and shivered. None of this escaped Alfred notice. England was cold.  
No Alfred.  
But Iggy's cold! I can't not do anything!  
Shut up. It doesn't matter!  
But, all I have to do is walk over and hand it to him!  
Alfred F. Jones! It's his own fault for not bringing a coat! But-  
US OF FUCKING A TALKIN' HERE!  
Same here dude! Shit, he was talking to himself. Creepy.

He shrugged himself off the wall and began to approach Arthur. Hell, he couldn't leave him standing there like that! It wasn't heroic! That's why he was doing this! Right?  
He was halfway there when some one else stepped up to England. He blinked. Once. Twice. Shit! Three times for all it was worth! Russia was standing next to England. His England. What the hell?  
England looked up at Russia. "Yes? Can I help you?" Russia smiled down at him. "Aah... I just thought that you looked cold! Spring isn't very warm here after all... And you where shivering... And I thought that, you might be cold and all..." His voice trailed off and he stared down at his feet, fidgeting. Wait, Russia was, fidgeting? What?  
It was England's turn to blink now. "Er.. Um, it's kinda cold. Not really, I mean..." His words completely contradicted his body. He was rubbing his arms for warmth and was shivering in an pretty darn near violent manner.  
Russia looked back at England's face and smiled. A real smile, not his, 'your gonna' get it' creepy-ass smile, but a REAL honest smile. "Um, you can borrow my scarf if you want!" he chirped. "It's really warm and soft and nice!" He began unwinding it from around his own neck before placing it gingerly around England's. He wrapped it around tenderly before tucking the ends in like Arthur was the most delicate flower on the surface of the entire Earth.  
It was only when Russia blushed and stepped away that America noticed the silence. He quickly realized that everyone had been watching the exchange. He also realized when everyone turned to look at him that he was standing halfway between the wall and England, gawking like an idiot. Alfred quickly retreated, watching from a distance as England fingered the scarf.  
He finally dropped it and went back to leaning against the wall, burrowing into the overly large scarf. He was no longer shivering, and his hands had stopped rubbing at his arms. He appeared content. Alfred's stomach churned. If he knew one thing at that moment, it was that that scarf had to go, and his jacket needed to be in it place. And it needed to happen soon.

As custom, they all went out drinking. It wasn't even custom. Hell! No one had even established it! It had always been and it just always was!  
England wormed his way to the back of the room. He already had a headache and he didn't want to deal with France until he'd downed a few. Easier said than done. He wasn't even halfway there when a hand shot out and grabbed his arm.  
"Arg!" He stumbled and landed flat on his back on a table. He cursed quietly and looked up to find the head of one Prussia the awesome leaning over him, grinning like a... well, a Prussian.  
"Dude, wow. Just, wow." England sat up. Resigning himself to his fate, he sat down in the only vacant chair. Prussia headed the table, France and Spain sitting around him. An angry Romano sitting next to Spain. "Wow what?" he gave Gilbert his best glare for banging his head on the table top. It was ignored to say the least. "Seriously? You DARE sit here wearing Russia's scarf, RUSSIA'S SCARF! His prize possession! That NO ONE touches! Not even the awesome me! And all you can say... Is 'Wow what?'" Gilbert leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the wooden surface.  
England thought for a moment. "When you put it that way, it does seem odd you know." He looked down at the scarf wrapped around his neck. It was easy to see why Russia always wore it. It was so bloody comfortable! It was soft, kept the perfect body temperature at any given moment (As far as he could tell, it wasn't summer yet after all.) even if it was a tad bit long.  
Gilbert watched Arthur think for a few moments before cutting in.  
"You can't be serious. You can't be FUCKING serious?" he threw his arms up in the air. "Really? You don't see it? All any one can talk about and YOU are just a clueless idiot! Well you know what England, I'm not going to spell it out for you! You got that?" He glared at England, his feet swinging off the table as he brought there faces close together.  
"What the bloody hell Prussia? What ARE you going on about?" His large brows knitted together.  
Prussia turned to the others at the table. "None of us are going to tell him! Right?" France and Spain roared in response. Lavino just sat there looking surly, going on about tomatoes under his breath. A voice suddenly chimed in out of no where, "Are you sure that's safe Gil? You know Ivan... This could end badly if he has no warning you know."  
The only person who didn't seem surprised to see the newcomer pop out of thin air was Prussia. You could hear the double take at the table as he spoke.  
"Of course Birdie!" Prussia wrapped his arm around the Canadian. "We'll watch out for him! We're just not gonna' tell him what he should already know! Get it?"  
England chose this point to interject, "Okay, first of all, how long have you been sitting there? Second, what can I not see? And third, what do I have to do to get a drink around here?" 


	2. Chapter 2

It had started with China and South Korea. A simple disagreement, the same as any other between them. "I'm telling you Yao! America is going to get England! He's been there longer!" glared at his brother, a childlike pout forming on his face. China sighed.  
"No no. America scorned England, so he's got no choice! Plus, Russia's scarier! He'll win for sure."  
A shape plopped down next to them, her ankles crossed and her expression calm and serious. "Well, at this point in the development, I'm waiting for someone to make their move. If we get really lucky, a third party might step in while Russia and America battle it out (possibly ending in a treat for me) and someone else will sweep England off his feet and away!"  
S. Korea and China just stared at the European nation. "Hungary, you sure seem to have put a lot of thought into this." They exchanged looks as she laughed loudly.  
"Not at all gentleman, I just happen to know these things! I mean, once you think about it, it does seem like the most obvious course, doesn't it?"  
Poland slammed his hands down on the table, causing the other three to jump.  
"What do you say we do this the old fashioned way!" he grinned a lazy grin that can only be described as Polish. The other occupants looked at each other. "What did you have in mind"  
Feliks told them.  
oOo America fumed. England hadn't taken off the scarf yet. Was it that cold? He had tried giving his coat to England a few times but the UK had just had just looked at him like he was an idiot and asked him what everyone was going on about.  
"Damn." he muttered under his breath.  
Someone sat down next to him. "Keep moving if you don't want a broken nose and a splitting head ache."  
"Relax mate! I'm going to have a headache anyway! It's the beer see." He sloshed his mug in America's general direction. "And you couldn't break my nose if you tried!"  
America turned to see Australia sitting next to him, grinning like an idiot.  
"Australia!" America was delighted to see the nation. Finally! Someone he could sucker into helping him! (He couldn't steal Mattie away, Prussia being over protective and all.) Australia put a finger up to silence him. "Just let me say, I know what your thinking, and I totally agree! While I may not care for big brother that much, I will under no circumstances, allow him to be hurt. So, what did you have in mind exactly?"

They had quite a bet pool going. Everyone was into it now. Even Austria had put a bet down, much to Hungary's surprise. Nations where betting everything from money (not much surprisingly), to animals (including a few of New Zealand's sheep. Lord knows he had enough of them), to territory!  
"Do I have to sit back here? I mean, can't bets get up and stretch their legs every once in a while? It only seems fair!"  
"Shut up Sealand."  
oOo England had finally made it to his corner. He was almost finished with his second pint and was wondering what the bloody hell was going on with everyone. It was obvious that Hungary was running something on the other side of the room, but he didn't care bartender had stopped trying to control anything a long time ago and the door had just been propped open after being forced open by nations beating each other up. There was a definite breeze going through the room and Arthur shivered, once again burrowing into the scarf. He was thinking about America's odd behavior that evening. Instead of ignoring the brit like he usually did, America had been strangely quiet and had kept shoving his coat at England when ever they crossed paths. Arthur would get no response when he tried to inquire about what was going on. Someone had even gone as far as to call him dense! The nerve. He wasn't dense! These people just made no sense! (Ah shit, did he just rhyme?)  
Let's see, the meeting had been normal, he had stood around, ignored as usual afterwords, and then... Russia had given him his scarf. Then the entire world went ballistic! What was up with that? Well, it WAS Russia's scarf. And, he had seemed, bashful almost? He had said that 'It's really warm and soft and nice!' before whispering, England was SURE he wasn't meant to hear this part but, he could have sworn that Russia had said, 'Like you."  
What had eluded him scant two minutes ago was now painfully clear.  
He began banging his head against the table.

Two arms grabbed England from behind and pulled him away from the table mid-bang.  
"Wot the bloody hell?" he whipped his head around and caught a glimpse of a band-aid and two very prominent hairs sticking off of a head. "Australia! Let me go!" He scowled his best England scowl and glared at Australia. He quickly turned his gaze away from the Aussie as America sat down in front of him. "Are you going to stop now?" he asked in a calm, collected voice. England blinked smartly.  
"Stop what?"  
America sighed and began grinding his palms against his eyes. "Banging your head on the table, wearing that scarf, lying to me, running from everyone, playing dumb. Shit, everything!"  
He threw his hands up as he declared the later part.  
England's brows knitted together. He was getting dangerous. Australia could tell from the way his eyes gleamed and the slight smile that played over his lips. England's head craned forward and cocked to look at America. It was beginning to make America uncomfortable quite honestly. He began to unconsciously lean back, further away.  
"I see." it was a whisper really, but America could make out every word of what came next. "And, tell me, dear America. Who am I lying to, and what about? And playing dumb? About what! If you mean what I think you mean, then it would explain the head banging. Now, I have just had a VERY painful epiphany, and would like it if you got this thing off of me and left me the BLOODY HELL ALONE!"  
He was an odd sight, red in the face, sucking in harsh breaths through gritted teeth as he sat there with Australia's arms wrapped around him, effectively pinning him. America was taken aback. "I just- just thought." He averted his gaze to the ground and shuffled his feet.  
"I just thought that maybe you would like my jacket better? I-it's warmer you know." He glanced up to see England staring at him with a look of utter shock on his face.  
England never got the chance to reply as America's chair was swiftly pulled out from the table and turned around. "I would like a word with you Alfred, da?" 


	3. Chapter 3

Russia was confused. Jealousy, love, torment, longing, they all crashed through him in record speeds. He loved England, he didn't know why (He did, but he wouldn't acknowledge it. It was weak.) Every time America fought with England, talked to England, was cared about by England, it broke Russia. It just wasn't fair! Why did America get what he didn't deserve? Giving the Brit his scarf had been a whim, but he was glad he had.  
He wanted Arthur iso/i badly! It was, it was... unreasonable! But, he had made his move, and until England gave him a sign in at least one direction or another, he would keep Alfred out of it! The American was a distraction! What if, what if Arthur l-loved America? In all likelihood, that was probably the case. But, the scarf hadn't been rejected! There was hope, that was for sure. But now, to keep Alfred out of it.  
America trailed behind Russia as they made their way out back of the bar.  
"What's this all about Russia? I want some ans-" he was suddenly cut off by an arm forcing him back against the wall, knocking the wind out of him.  
Russia wasn't smiling. "America, I have a problem I need some advice on! Would you care to hear?" America made a strangled choking noise and begun clawing at Russia's arm, trying to get it off.  
"You see, I like a certain person, and I'm trying to tell this person, but I don't know how they feel about me! See... So, I'm trying to figure this out, when along comes another person." he stopped to catch his breath before continuing. "They wont let me find out. This thing! It's going to drive me insane if I don't know! But, the other person, might be confusing this person I like, and I want them to stop! So tell me, should I beat them into a pulp until they get the message, or should I make them disappear? This is where I need your advice!"  
America was no longer struggling, we was still choking quietly as he stared wide eyed at Russia. "Y-your..." Alfred managed to choke out. "You, really want England? Shit."  
Russia pulled his arm back far enough that it was still pinning Alfred but allowed him to speak with more ease.  
"I-I thought, you where just trying to screw him over! Like, with the Baltics and all..." Alfred lowered his gaze and seemed to contemplate something before his face became hard again. "No. I wont allow it. You can't touch him. He's mine! He wants ime/i Russia." America had begun leaning forward over Ivan's arm still pinning him to the wall. "Face it." he said a smirk forming on his face.  
Russia stiffened in surprise. He had known it, but to hear it from someone else was, it was... "A-and why you?" He looked at America and continued, licking his lips nervously. "Why would he choose you? You, who h-have broken his heart so many times? He deserves better." Russia's arm had fallen at some point while he was talking, leaving America standing there.  
"Because I love him. I don't know what you think you have Russia, but it's not love! No one can love him the way I do. And he deserves me, because I can protect him! You Ivan, you'd be protecting him from yourself! Is ithat/i what you think he deserves?"  
"I-I..." Russia tried to talk but was cut off again by America, he was on a roll now.  
"Why would he choose you Russia? I-I may not be the best, but here! Here! I'm the better choice!"  
Russia seemed to sink in on himself. God, how could he have been so stupid, so foolish? America was right and he knew it. Stinging tears pushed there way up to the surface, no matter what Russia did to keep them down. He was so unstable, like and Italian grenade, no one knew when he'd go off! What had iever/i possessed him to make a pass at England, the one person he wanted most in this world. He slowly sank to his knees, sobbing into his hands.  
America looked down at the crying man, face void of all expression. He slowly turned and began to walk back inside as Russia was slowly consumed by his own mass of darkness, slowly engulfing him.  
The small Brit eavesdropping from the shadows went unnoticed by both.

A week had passed since the incident. England was still just as confused as ever. He kept the scarf with him whenever he went places, unsure of what to do with it. Should he return it to Russia? Probably, but if what he had heard was true, Russia would be expecting some sort of answer with it. But what kind of answer would he give?  
His train of thought was interrupted by a knock on his door. He sighed and put down his tea, standing up to answer it.  
"Yes?" he pulled the door open and was surprised to find Ukraine and Belarus standing there.  
"Um, hi ! Er, can we come in?" Ukraine smiled down at him nervously.  
England blinked, "S-sure! Come on in."It wouldn't do to forget his manners. He iwas/i after all, a gentleman.  
They sat in silence for a few moments after migrating into the living room and settling on the couches. England used the moments of quiet to examine them. Ukraine looked worried and nervous. Belarus, well, she looked like Belarus, maybe a tad more aggravated than usual, but there you go. It was Ukraine who broke the silence.  
"I don't know if you remember, but, um."  
England nodded, "I think I understand." He leaned over to his bag and pulled out the scarf. "You're here for this, right?"  
Belarus made a grab for the scarf, hissing something about marriage under her breath as Ukraine shook her head.  
"Well, yes and no." she took a moment to pull Belarus of of England before continuing. ""D-did you do something to Ivan? He seems..." she paused, "more aggressive than usual."  
She frowned a little "I was just wondering-"  
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BROTHER BUSHY EYEBROW FREAK?" Belarus slammed her hands down on the coffee table, leaning towards England, murder in her eyes.  
"I-I didn't do anything!" England managed to choke out.  
Belarus just glared harder (Is it possible?) and silently resumed her seat next to her sister.  
England quickly composed himself before speaking. "I can't help you. The only thing he wants from me, is my answer, which I bloody well don't have by the way!" calm Arthur, calm now.  
He shook his head. "I don't know what to say. So I really can't."  
Ukraine looked thoughtful for a minute. "Perhaps we could help you sort out your thoughts?"  
At first England suspected a trick but, she looked so sincere, so, helpful. "I-I... Alfred... Then Ivan..." he waved his hands feebly trying to explain his thought process.  
Ukraine took Arthur's hands in her own. "Start at the beginning, just a rundown, please."  
Arthur took a shaky breath before starting. "I've always loved Alfred, I raised him, took care of him, but... He's always slipping away from me..." he paused, staring into space before snapping back to reality. "Sorry! To far back?"  
"Not at all sweetie! Please go on!"  
"W-well, All this time, Alfred acts like he hates me, like he doesn't care. But then Ivan, he came, and practically said he liked me, and at the same time, so does Alfred! What's up with that?" He was really picking up steam now. "A-and so I'm expected to just iaccept/i that all this time he's loved me? After all that? And Ivan! What iis/i all this out of the blue! I don't know anything about the guy!"  
Arthur's head snapped back as though he had just been hit in the face by something.  
"B-but I do... I know th-that he's wrong. He orders the Baltics around, b-but when no ones looking, he watches them doing their tasks, proud... He takes notes in meetings, but not when America, France, or Poland are speaking. But Alfred, git can't take a hint, I-I just don't know..."  
At this point, he had reclaimed his hands and had folded them into his lap, eyes downcast. Ukraine watched him for a minute. "It sounds to me, like your, how do you say? 'Playing the ponies'. Your betting on America, when Russia has better odds. But, isn't it smarter to put your money on the chance of a bigger payoff? No one is asking you to make any choices or sudden decisions. Maybe, you should get to know Ivan? Just take your time."  
England stared at her in amazement. "I-I...suppose..."  
"Just thing about it. Thank you for your time!" Ukraine and Belarus stood up, the later still shooting daggers at England, even if she very much wished they could be the ireal/i daggers concealed around her person. Five minutes after they left, Arthur was still sitting on the couch. 'Take... my time?' 


	4. Chapter 4

Estonia put a bandage on his now bleeding arm. It was getting increasingly difficult, seeing as he was attempting to balance a laptop on his other arm at the same time. This was the position Latvia found him in when he entered the bathroom to look for a spare toothbrush (Don't ask why. You ireally/i don't want to know.).

"What are you doing?"

"Ah!" Estonia looked up from his laptop, flushed in embarrassment before glancing at his arm, a slight trickle of blood dripping onto the floor. "I was just, getting a band-aid." he cleared his throat awkwardly.

Latvia sighed and entered the bathroom, putting down the tomato he was holding on the counter. "Put down the computer. Please?" That only made Estonia grip it even tighter, before slowly lowering the lid.

"What happened?"

Estonia sighed and leaned back, staring at a crack in the ceiling. "You know, Russia. Not much."

Latvia looked up from the bandage he was fixing, "What'd you do?"

Something scary sparked in Estonia's eyes. "What I did? You really want to know Latvia? I think you already know that one."

Latvia flinched, an automatic reaction to aggression after so many years of living with Russia. "Sorry." he mumbled, eyes downcast to the arm he was still holding.

He heard a sigh echo in the bathroom, Estonia had gone back to staring at the obviously entertaining crack in the ceiling. "No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you."

Somewhere downstairs, a doorbell rang.

Estonia moved his gaze back to Latvia as he shrugged his shirt back on and stood. "I'll get it. Oh, and Ravis?"

"Y-yeah?"

"None of this is ever your fault, you know that right?"

Latvia smiled brightly, "Of course!"

They walked out of the bathroom into the hall, after checking to make sure no one was around, they kissed quickly. The doorbell rang again.

"Coming!" Estonia stalked off down the stairs, avoiding putting pressure on his injured arm, computer tucked under the other.

Latvia sighed and stepped into the bathroom to pick up his tomato and the toothbrush.

"Must be nice, loving someone who loves you, да?"

Latvia squeaked, and quickly turned around. Russia was leaning against the door frame, staring into space, arms folded. He turned his head to face Latvia.

He stared blankly at the door, counting to five before automatically reaching up to ring the bell again. After repeating this annoying maneuver a few times, the door opened revealing a very harassed looking Estonia. His face did the emotional rainbow when he saw Arthur standing there, scarf in hand.

iTo those who care, it went something like this/i

Red: JOY! IVAN WILL GONNA STOP BEATING US UP NOW!

Orange: Wait, What if he's rejecting Russia.

Yellow: Oh, god, I don't think I can put up with that!

Green: He wont beat up England. Stupid Lucky Brit.

Blue: Well, he's gonna kill us. Or, he might kill England. D:

Purple: OH POOR ENGLAND! RUN NOW!

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Estonia flushed, realizing he had screamed out loud.

"Er, bad time?"

"N-no! Not at all!" Estonia laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. "C-come on in! You're here to see Mr. Russia, right?"

He held the door open as England stepped inside. "Thanks. Bloody hell it's cold here."

They went into the sitting room. Estonia went to find Russia, leaving England to mill about.

"Mr. Russia! Where are you? M-Mr. England is here to see you!"

Less than a minute later, they could both hear Russia descending the stairs. He entered the room, looking skeptical.

"Thank you Eduard. You may leave us. Little Latvia might need some help getting his head out of the toilet, да?"

Estonia let out a little squeak. He visibly shrank inward and began backing up toward the staircase, "O-of course, sir."

England cocked an eyebrow at the Russian with his hands behind his back. "Why is his head in the toilet?"

Russia tilted his head a bit, "Why, I was just asking him the same thing when you got here! Curious."

England shook the thought off. He was searching for the right thing to say when Russia spoke. "W-why are you here?"

England's gaze snapped up to Russia's face. He was surprised to see that his smile was gone.

He swallowed hard. "I-I have something to tell you."


	5. Chapter 5

Russia averted his gaze from England to the floor. "I see."

"Ivan," Arthur took a deep breath, "I don't love you."

Russia didn't seem to move, but England thought he saw him flinch.

"But what could ever cause that train of thought England? Why would you? You do have America, I know that."

"Shut up." Russia's head snapped up, England was glaring at him. He was surprised, he'd never been told to shut up like that before. There had been times, Stalin had said it to him often. But no nation had said it for centuries.

"I'm not finished."

What more could he have to say? More bashing? Like America? About how Russia didn't deserve him, how he was better off without him? How- His train of thought was cut short.

"C-could you sit down please? This m-might be easier for me..." Arthur trailed off.

Ivan just stood there, still avoiding the other blonde's gaze.

"God, this is awkward." He blushed and shuffled his feet. "Ivan, I don't love you. I-I wish, I could say that I did, or that I certainly didn't, but I can't. I'm confused."

Wait, did England hate him or not? Russia was getting confused.

"I need your help. I'm through waiting for Alfred, I'm done taking hints from France, I'm done with all of it. I want to know... c-can you help me start over?"

Russia finally looked at England. His eyes where wide with uncertainty, his shoulders hunched and stiff, face flushed, lips slightly parted, eyebrows crinkled- stop it Ivan, don't do this to yourself.

"You've never judged me. Germany, China, Japan, god, even Italy! They can't even stand me! M-meetings are painful these days." He looked like he was on the verge of tears. "I just want to be with you now, even if it doesn't work out, I know it's a gamble. I don't love you know, but I do like you Ivan. Please, give me a chance?"

Russia was stunned. "G-give you a chance? England, I-I don't understand... I-I was asking you for one." his voice wavered. "But, if it's a chance you want, I'd give you thousands."

He swooped down, face next to England's ear. "You don't know how happy you've made me Arthur, I love you." He pulled back slightly, blushing himself as England did the same. He couldn't help himself, he leaned in, closing the small space between the two of them.

oOo

Arthur blushed as Russia whispered in his ear. Oh my, Russia was blushing too. There was a mere two inches between them, suddenly, he felt the desire to close the distance, to feel Russia's lips on his. He didn't have time to do more than blush harder at the thought when the Russian acted upon it for him. He gently pushed their lips together, softly and slowly.

England pulled back slightly in surprise, eyes widening. He felt heat searing through him as Russia fit their lips together. Soon he began to kiss back, however slightly.

He closed his eyes and tried not to moan into the kiss as it deepened into more of a needy searching.

They where interrupted (pulled back to their senses) by someone clearing their throat from the hall.

They quickly broke apart, and Russia turned around to see who had stopped one of the best moments of his life.

"Like, totally not cool guys. Really?"

Poland was standing in the doorway next to a blank looking Netherlands.

"You will explain why you are here, да? It is not nice to barge into other people's houses without being invited."

Poland looked at the ceiling for a minute. "Huh, I don't remember. Figures. Later!" He turned, hand on hip and strode out of the house, pausing on the lawn to yell at a squirrel that attempted to run up his skirt.

"And you?"

Netherlands looked up, "Just passing through."

He turned away and walked down the hall and out the back door in the kitchen.

"Um, h-here." England had stood up and was holding Russia's scarf out to him. He was as red as one of the tomatoes Spain was always obsessing over. "T-thanks for letting me use it. It's very warm."

Russia silently took the scarf from him, before wrapping it around Arthur's neck again.

"Keep it. I have more. It looks cold outside, да? Besides, it gives me an excuse to see you again."

"Really? Thank you Ivan. I mean, for everything."

He swiftly stood on his tiptoes and gave Russia a gentle peck on the lips. "I'll see you soon."

subA/N I'm thinking of ending it here, what do you guys think? Thank you all for being so nice to me! I love all reviews always! XDD Pointers are always welcome to! I'm still learning after all! Should I keep going, or should I just put in a prolouge and leave it at that? Always put in a review! No matter how long ago I wrote something, I love reviews!


	6. Chapter 6

"Arthur. Arthur. Arthur. Arthur. Iggy. Iggy. Iggy. Iggy. Artie. Artie. Artieeeeeeee... Answer your phooooone!"

England sighed. How many voice messages did the git plan on leaving? It's not like he wasn't meeting him for lunch tomorrow! Stupid American can't even-

His thoughts where disrupted by a rather muffled crash from the other room.

He sighed. "There had better not be any glass on the floor by the time I arrive in that room! You have been warned!" His house was oddly warm for the time of year, it wouldn't last though. Sheets of sunlight came in through the dirty windows, he never had the time to clean them anymore. Maybe he could convince his brothers to do it, it wasn't like they did anything these days but break stuff and make messes. His feet dragged on the carpet as he slowly approached the room where he'd heard the crash. A redhead was bent over a patch of floor, his back to Arthur. "Ian, use a broom, you're going to cut your hands up."

The man jerked around. "Ach! I didn't see ye there! You really shouldn't sneak up on people! It's bad for health!" He had dusty rust colored hair that hung around his face in waves, stopping a little below his ears. His face was covered with a smattering of freckles but his dominating features where really the *ahem* pieces of hair above his eyes. He had his hands behind his back, trying to hide something from England's view. "Cut me hands? On wot?"

Said nation craned his head around, trying to take stock of the damage. "Whatever. Just, don't make to much of a mess." "Are ye okay Arthur? You seem a wee bit, passive?" He shook his head. "Since when have ye ever shrugged and let me be when I've broken somethin'. Not that I have! Nothin's broke here!" England sighed, "I suppose, I really just don't care Ian. Leave it alone, I'll clean it up later."

He turned and continued to shuffle down the hallway in the opposite direction he had come from. The Scotsman watched him go, mystified by his brothers detached behavior. "He should really get some sleep. Looks right horrible he does. Never thought I'd see the day I felt sorry for him." He turned back to his pile of broken teacup. "He needs a vacation. No..." His face lit up as a thought struck him. "He needs a girlfriend! And I know just the person to find him one!"

oOo

Scotland walked into a pub at random. It was getting dark out and this one had been the noisiest, so he had assumed that was where his brother would be. Ireland, as it turns out, was the cause of all the noise. He had gotten into a fight with someone in the back over god knows what and had been thrown out twice before they finally gave up and let him stay. "Quinn! Been lookin' everywhere for you! I need your help wi' somethin'!" Ian raised his hand to hail him. Ireland began to walk towards him, tossing people in his path over his shoulder and laughing merrily. "Brother! What can I do for you?" Skepticism crossed his face for a moment, "It doesn't have anything to do with sheep does it? Because New Zealand was just in here and I don't want to hear anymore about it!"

It took Ian a second to process what his brother had just said. "Er, no. It doesn't have anything to do with... sheep."

"Oh. W's up then?" "Well, I was just thinking about how our pitiful little brother doesn't have a girlfriend. _Our_ brother. Whut if people start drawing conclusions from something like that?"

Ireland stared at his brother for a minute. After a while he threw his arm around Scotland and shook his head. "Arthur? That git? Why would we even _care_?"

"well, I mean, have you seen him? He looks like _really_ bad. And if we get him a girlfriend..." Ireland picked up the sentence "He might be really grateful...""And th' bloody bastard might do something for us!"

"Great idea Scotty! Now lets go talk to the expert!"

oOo

Perhaps, one should understand why Ian Kirkland was so concerned for his "dear" younger brother state and what could have led to it. Arthur Kirkland had been busy. His boss had been swamping him with paperwork, their was another so-called "crisis" in London and the other nations would not BUGGER OFF. They'd been trying to get a hold of him for days, something about Poland, WWIII, and Sheep. (He suspected a certain someone's hand in that last one.) He hadn't slept in days (it was a lot easier for nations to pull off, being all superhuman and such) and was up to twenty-two cups of tea for every twenty-four hours.

His hair hadn't seen a brush in days and it showed. No matter how messy it had been before, at least it had been somewhat healthy with a dull sheen. Today it just hung dirty and matted against his pale face alongside the dark bags forming from going forty-three hours without sleep. He was exceptionally pasty from not coming into contact with sun for a while, and his dreaded freckles where beginning to show through. (He hated them. They only ever showed when he was sick or pale. He'd always chalked it up to being a Kirkland, the others had them too.)

He'd only seen Russia once since they'd started officially dating, and to tell the truth, the thought made him a little sad. He missed him. But seriously, how can someone always smell like sunflowers? It was a bit creepy really. He sighed in contemplation and glanced down at his watch. It was almost time for his lunch with America. It wasn't like he had to rush, Alfred was always "fashionably late". Still, it wouldn't do to not be ready in time.

* * *

A/N Okay you guys, seriously, I'm just gonna clear a few things up here; 1) The story _will_ continue, but I put an end to it on the kink meme, okay? So if you're interested, there is an alternate ending there... somewhere. 2)The Netherlands wasn't actually *quoteunquote* "passing through", but I'll get to that later. Please, anyone who wants to write a story description for me, mine sucks! I'd love it if someone could write a new one of those little blurb thingies that shows up for the story. You know? I _really_ can't write them and mine sucks!  
If you love me even the tiniest bit, you'll answer the poll on my profile!  
Oh, 30th reviewer gets a one-shot!  
(long Authors Note is long)


	7. Chapter 7

Alfred was sitting alone at the cafe table, staring off into space. His fingers tattooed a steady beat on the table in time to whatever was playing on his iPod.

England was surprised, the git had shown up early for once! Dear god, someone alert the media, the apocalypse is here! He wove his way through the crowd and took his seat next to Alfred, who was still off in his own world. Pulling the ear bud closest to him out of it's ear, he shoved it into his own.

"Iggy! Dude! You're late." England stared down at the table top, hand still at his ear. "Interesting choice in music, never knew you listened to this sort of thing."

"Hey! Don't insult my music! You're just jealous you don't have anything this awesome in your rainy assed country!"

"Git! Industrial was practically born in England!" He handed the headphone back to America. "Besides, today hardly seems the kind of day to be listening to that sort of thing! I thought you only ever listened to that Miley Cyrus and the likes!"

The younger nation crossed his arms over his chest defensively. "Shut up Arthur. I'll listen to whatever I want." England was taken aback by the sudden change in tone from his former colony. Said colony was now staring angrily at a passing cat.

"Er. Sorry." His eyebrows furrowed as they sat in an (fairly) awkward silence. Alfred suddenly threw his arms up. "God! Would it kill you to answer your phone every once in a while?"

Arthur jerked upward, caught off guard by the sudden outburst, "Wah-?" "God! Just because you've totally got a boyfriend now, doesn't mean you can just diss me at every turn man! Not cool!"

"I'm sorry! But what the hell are you going on about?" Alfred stared at England cooly.

"I understand, that you have a boyfriend, but you cannot! Cannot! Blow me off when I've been trying to get into contact with you for two day-"

"What the bloody hell do you mean, boyfriend?"

"I mean, the fucking Russian you're dating! Clear enough for you?" England paled. "Who in the-" He stopped and looked around. They where both standing now, faces inches apart with every eye in the little cafe trained on them.

He sat down quickly and then motioned for Alfred to do the same. Once they where both seated, he started up again. "Who the bloody hell told you that?" He hissed. "Oh you know, just Poland. No one special really! Just the person who caught you two going at it together!" he snarled through clenched teeth.

"G-going at it? We never... I haven't... I haven't even seen my own boyfriend in weeks!" Arthur angrily crossed his arms and sunk back into his chair. "Aha! So you admit he's your boyfriend!"

"Go dammit America! Yes! Yes he is! Why can't you just be happy for me? Why do you have to be so bleeding prissy about it? Grow a prick and stop whining for once!" It was Alfred's turn to sink back into his chair. He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again. Alfred sighed and began running his hands through his hair. "Fuck. Fine, lunch time."

"I'm not really that hungry. I think I'll stick to tea thanks." Alfred's frown deepened, "Dude, when was the last time you ate anything?" Eyebrows knitting he leaned over and poked England in the stomach. "Hey! Stop that!"

"Really, take better care of yourself!" England swatted the hand away. "Fine! I'll eat something, okay?" He settled back down, thinking about what sounded good. Something that would last a while. He had the feeling he would be here a while, it had been a while since he'd last seen the boy, and they hadn't really parted on the best of terms.

"Happy?" the question was directed to both his consent to eat, and to Alfred's general well-being, and they both new it. America thought for a moment, "Well, I guess. Buy me a burger and I'll tell you all about it!" England glared and forced back a grin. "Fine, you ungrateful twerp."

oOo

Russia sighed and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't slept well in days. He missed England in all of his Englishness. More than anything, he just wanted to be sure he hadn't drempt the whole thing up! Because really, he wasn't always the healthiest in the head and had found himself mixing wishful thinking and reality on more than one occasion. He'd never forget that incident with Hungary and the lemons. How was he supposed to know what she'd meant by lemon?

He leaned back in his seat. "Ah... I need a drink."

oOo

"God dammit! What do you mean we can't cross into Australia? Do you know who I am?"  
Ireland slammed his hands down on the counter top. The brunette on the other side flinched. "I'm sorry sir, but.. you need a passport."

"Move brother, I'll get this one." Scotland pushed Ireland out of the way and turned to face her. "Hi." He smiled and reached up to sweep the hair from his face. He leaned in on his other arm and tilted his head a little. "Wos this about passports?"

"Um. W-we can't let you... Um, you can't cross the border... Er, I mean, Y-you can't go in!" the airline clerk stuttered. Scotland shook his head. "No no! Just, ah, just one phone call? Yer not goin' to deny us that are yee?" She blushed even more as he leaned even further over the counter. "O-of course! Here!"

She practically threw the phone attached to her desk at him before running to the other side to help someone else. "Whore." Ireland muttered under his breath. "Hey bro! If you've got it, flaunt it! Now gimmie the Aussie's number."

Ireland pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and squinted at it intently. "Er. Nine-nine-three, no wait, make that a six, eight-seven-fuck it I can't read this."

"Baby." Scotland yanked the paper out of his hands and started mouthing the numbers to himself, brow wrinkling more and more as the seconds passed. "Whot is this? Some kinnda alien speak?"

"Just call tha dang operator!"

* * *

  
Fail accents are fail! XDD  
'Member everybody! 30 reviewer gets a nice little one shot of their choicey-ness!

The song Alfred is listening to is "Silence" by Assemblage 23: .com/watch?v=W6DViyLwxD0 (Best I could Find)  
Though personally I recommend "Divide" .com/watch?v=REhX-UVrf4I


	8. Chapter 8

Did you all miss me? Sorry I was gone! Computer trouble, I missed all of you at least! Alright, important thingy thing! Amazingly enough, there is a club on DeviantArt for RussiaxEngland, and it doesn't get enough love. Join please? For me? Being one of the only participators makes me a bit sad... D: So... Me .com and it! .com Amazingness!

Also, congrats to twine and ivory in all her desk humping glory for getting the oneshot! It's (kinda) on the way!

* * *

"Hello? Operator? Yeah. I need to get a hold of someone, and yee'r goin' to help me."

Ireland leaned against the counter and watched his brother battle the operator with a mild level of success. That failing to entertain him, he turned his gaze to the giggle bundle of girls and there male companions. The later where glaring heavily at him, upset by the lack of attention they where getting. The girls burst out into a fresh burst of giggles as he grinned cockily and waved at them. Damn, that never got old, did it?

"Seamus. Kirkland. How hard can that be?" There was a muffled answer from the other side of the line. "Yeah, you give it one mor' try."

Scotland leaned over the counter, tapping his fingers and picking at a spot of glue. Ireland found himself staring at his younger brother. Stringy hair falling into his face, the light spattering of freckles, not as prominent as his own, but darker than England's. Had his eyes always been that shade? Or was it just the lighting? Australia seemed to be oddly bright for the time of year.

"Bro, I think I got him." Ireland blinked, "Right, well, git on wi' it then." Clearing his throat he straightened up and focused his attention back to the conversation on hand.

Despite the nagging feeling in his gut, Australia, some seventy miles away, finally desided to pick up the phone ringing on the table.

"Do I want to know who's calling?"

"Seamus! How good to hear yeer voice! We're at the airport, c'n you come pick us up?"

"Sure. Sure." The line was silent for a few moments. "Sorry, who's this? And what do you mean, 'we'?"

oOo

England was disgusted, but it was routine disgust at this point. After being raised with some of the best manners around, the American had proceeded to leave everything he knew behind, and eat like a wild animal the minute he was free of England. And to merely say that it disgusted Arthur, was one of the largest understatements of all time.

"Andf thynn, fwe got on thysh big r'ller cyshter, andf yI sfwear to yoo, he wash abouf ta hurl or shomfink! Fwho knhew J'pfan coodn't fandle a r'ller cyshter?"

England nodded and turned back to picking at his own food, only half listening. A few minutes later, it dawned on him that the American was trying to attract his attention. "So what about it man?"

"Huh?" England looked up to find Alfred staring at him with a mixture of exasperation and annoyance. "Seriously? I asked you, like, five times. Are you gonna tell me what's happenin' between you two or what?"

"Ah. That." England looked down again and swallowed. "What could you want to know?"

"Why." There was a tinge of ice creeping into his voice. "Why him? What _made you say yes_. Iggy," England still didn't look up. "Do you love 'im?"

Arthur winced. He'd seen this coming. "America, no.. Alfred." He turned his gaze to meet the other's. "I'm fond of him. I don't know if I _love_ him, but I do miss him."

"You still haven't explained why. _Why him, Iggy_?"

"Because he was just there." England's gaze hardened, "It could have been anyone. It could have been you, or even Francis as much as the thought repulses me." Alfred just stared, evidently confused. "When was the last time you listened to me? Or even asked me about my feelings? Does it even mater to you? Y-you're so confusing Al! Stop sending me mixed signals! T-they just, they just hurt me, Al.

"God, Francis is such a pervert with so many people, that it makes me wonder about whether or not he actually likes any one in particular! But you Alfred, I wanted you." His voice was becoming softer as though he was trying not to say things, but deciding what he did right after the words had already come out. "I truly did. It broke my heart when you left, and then, saying all those things to me for so long, I just, couldn't take it anymore. I don't know it you want me now Alfred, or if you ever did, but it's to late. Sorry."

America blinked at him, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't understand any of that!" He grinned like an idiot. "Could you repeat it? Slower this time?" England just glared at him.

"Git." Quickly standing up he shrugged on his coat. "Good day to you Alfred. I hope you get hit by a car." Without even looking back, he began to stroll across the little cafe and out onto the street.

Brow crinkled, America chewed another bight of burger slowly. Why was the stupid limey so upset now? He hadn't done anything wrong. His gaze wandering, it fell upon Arthur's barely touched lunch. He stared at it for a few seconds before shrugging to no one in particular and beginning to shovel it into his now empty mouth.

* * *

Dear wibble anon, you know who you are. But yes, he has freckles. XDD

I love you too Roksashoe!

And last but not least, I've bothered my Aussie to much recently, so if anyone out there can help me with my fail Australian accent for future chapters, I would be grateful!


	9. Sorry Guys Soon!

I'm sorry, yo. It's been a long time, I should have posted this sooner... If your still with me, you're like, amazing. I wont post anything for a bit, but it _is_ almost summer, so it's coming. I love you all. I hate myself. D: Please don't come and kill me. I will update SO SOON IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY! Thank you for all your support. (If you must know, my computer got taken away for grades...) I have half of a chapter written, and I should be finishing it soon... I'm sorry... I love you! Don't forget me! D,:


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